ROANNE.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, turning around to face him. Not caring that he can see my tears. RIP my make-up at this point. “Would you listen to me?” “Not that I'm interested, but do you want to rekindle what we had?” I ask and I know it comes as a shock, because he freezes, but then he never recovers. Doesn’t reply, doesn’t say anything. He just stares. “That's what I thought. So what's the point of what we're doing then?” “Roanne.” “You realize that’s all you've been doing right? Calling my name.” I say, and he frowns. “Would you listen to me? Let’s have a sit over there and talk.” God, I hate how cold his voice is. He says he’s sorry, but he doesn’t even sound sorry. Or look sorry. “Alright” Only for the sake of God, I let him lead me to a chair and we sit. “I was never int
